


Casual Sexual Harassment

by 9eleanorsometimeswrites9



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Hickeys, UST, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2020-01-07 00:37:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18399572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/9eleanorsometimeswrites9/pseuds/9eleanorsometimeswrites9
Summary: Season 1 Era.The five times in which our favorite rookie advances on our favorite robot.





	1. The first time, it just kind of slipped out.

The first time it happened, it just kind of slipped out.

It was hot. _Really_ hot. Grant wished the hotness of his situation was the fun girl kind, not the sweltering temperature kind. Granted (ha), he was so close to being extracted but being in full tactical gear certainly wasn’t fun. It was 107℉ in the middle of June with no cloud cover and here he was having to sprint across Death Valley, California in goddamn kevlar and _pants_ for god’s sake. 

At this point, Grant didn’t see the point in complaining about not having water or having to make a getaway in a wide clearing. He would much rather fantasize about the cold shower he would be able to have (With _air conditioning_ , he could salivate at the concept) once he finally reached the Bus. 

Grant was sure he had reached the third mile mark which means that it would be any second now before he reached the team. Right on cue, the Quinjet appeared out of seemingly nowhere, roughly twenty feet in front of him. 

Skye tried, and failed, to look uninterested with whether Ward was okay. She wished May didn’t ask her to undo the camouflage because the only thing to combat her worries would be the humor of Ward face planting against the Quinjet. 

Honestly, days like these made her not want to be an agent. This mission just seemed kind of mean. Of course, any intel was good, but was it necessary to make him have to run across a desert in order to get a ride? 

She saw him sprint up the hangar launch pad and figured she’d get up to meet him. It was a belief of hers that all men deserve to be hit on after they succeed in a mission. Besides, he seemed to be struggling, he could probably use a pickmeup.

Skye had the pleasure of realizing that although badass agent Grant Ward does not blush, if she makes enough suggestive comments, his ears turn a certain shade of pink that is quite amusing. She was sure that her constant flirting was definitely problematic but he’s never said it bothered him so she was sure it was just how their relationship (Supervising officer to rookie relationship, she meant) worked.

“Mother fucking bullshit heat.” She heard him growl.

_This should be interesting._   
-  
Grant was struggling to peel off the bulletproof vest that was _condensed_ with sweat. He couldn’t stop himself from letting out all of the complaints he previously shoved from his mind.

“What the fuck is wrong with the government. A hundred and fucking seven degrees outside and I had to _sprint_ three miles. I hate my fucking job. Phil Coulson can suck m-”

His words were cut off as he shucked off his shirt that was soaking wet. Okay, which, gross. Absolutely disgusting. 

“Phil Coulson can do what now?” He looked up to find probably the prettiest girl in the entire world.

He definitely wasn’t allowed to think that but he occasionally found himself admiring her beauty. He was kind of her boss but _hey_ he’s a dude and men are disgusting. Grant allowed himself to make a sound that somewhat resembled a laugh.

“Sorry,” A small smile on his face formed, “Had to let that out.”

Skye laughed and it made this whole mission worth it. She tossed him a cold water bottle. Oh he was _so_ gonna marry her.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell him. You’ll already get your ass kicked when he realizes how much sand you’re tracking in here.”

After drinking the water, Grant continued to take off all the layers forced on him by regulation. Feeling his bare feet touch the cool metal ground made him internally sigh. He could get to the bus in five. He could shower in five minutes!

“Woah!” He heard her say as he started to take off his pants.

He rolled his eyes.

“I didn’t realize you were doing a strip show for me. I should’ve brought my phone to record.”

“I’m too tired to do this with you now. I’m wearing shorts underneath.” He hoped she would leave him alone.

Okay, that was probably a lie. Good thing she never listens to him.

“I mean, I wouldn’t mind if you were doing a little magic mike for me.” Her eyes were always bright and teasing. 

Always messing with him. He kind of hated her for it. Ward kind of just assumed that she knew he had a crush on her. Well, not crush. He was a grown man, he didn’t get crushes. He simply admired her, and wanted to be around her despite hating himself for it. And, of course, he would be mortified if anybody found out about his not-crush. Skye tended to know everything so she probably knew and that’s probably why she makes comments like this.

“If you like your strippers to be covered in sweat, dirt, blood, and sand, then I’m judging you.” He could tell he was gonna regret humoring her by joking with her by the way she was staring at him.

“I can’t imagine how disappointed you’ll be when you see the porn I watch.”

And there it was. 

“Why is it, ‘when’?” Grant challenged, an eyebrow raised as he folded his obnoxiously gross clothes.

He might be flirting with her. Oh well, he was shirtless and full of adrenaline, he could regret it later.

“We live in close quarters. Who knows what you’ll hear.” Skye took a step closer to him.

Skye has been saving her observation about his red ears for maximum effectiveness. A time for when he had nowhere to run. A time like now.

“Or maybe you’ve already been listening,” She took a step forward to where he was sitting, “Based on how much you’re blushing, maybe you know _exactly_ what I think about.”

She flicked his ear for good measure.

Grant didn’t really have a good answer. Obviously, he _didn’t_ know what she thought about. (But now that’s probably all _he’ll_ be able to think about for the next month or so.) He felt the jet slow down, meaning they would attach to the Bus.

“If you could stop casually sexually harassing me for like two seconds I really need to shower off all this sand.”

He heard her cackling when he walked away, now needing a cold shower for an entirely different reason.


	2. The second time, Skye was way too forward.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grant didn't realize he had a hickey on his neck. Everyone else is amused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to add the second chapter, I've been going through a depressive episode. Tell me what you think?

The second time, Skye was way too forward. 

"You have a hickey on your neck.” Skye bemusedly informed a now frozen Grant Ward.

“I’m 70% sure I _don’t_ have a hickey on my neck.” 

He mainly said that for his own comfort and everyone knew it.

“I think you do,” Fitz observed mouth stuffed with one of the sandwiches they were all eating. 

“Yeah, I saw it earlier,” Coulson chipped in.

Jemma hummed her agreeance and Grant felt his ears turned red. He also saw that Skye noticed said ears by the way she clasped her hands in front of her face to hide her grin.

Trying not to look as embarrassed and on display as he felt, Grant finished his sandwich, and made a move towards the bathroom.

Skye followed him.

“Can I help you?” Grant muttered.

If she followed him he couldn’t act like he wasn’t about to check if he actually had a hickey. He heard her snort (always laughing at him).

“I wouldn’t miss Mr. Uptight realizing the large bruise underneath his jaw.”

Panic filled Grant because seriously _how bad was it?_

He stared in the bathroom mirror then sighed. She was messing with him, thank _god_.

“I don’t see it.”

Skye giggled. Okay, cool. It was a joke, he could deal with people joking with him.

“Maybe lift your chin a bit, babe.”

He did so, looking down the bridge of his nose at his reflection.

“Fuck!” His cursing was drowned out by the absolutely hysterical laughter erupting from Skye.

She grabbed his arm, continuing to laugh and laugh and laugh.

Grant cursed himself, realizing that everyone probably saw it because everyone was so goddamn short. Why did shit like this always happen to him?

“So,” She said, combating tears at this point, “Did you have fun with the hotel stay last night?”

He didn’t even dignify it with a response (you know what he fucking _did_ have fun thank you very much) and instead huffed and exited the bathroom.

Grant threw a spoon in the freezer. That usually did the trick to make a hickey disappear. The members of his team left sitting at the table were all chuckling.

“Maybe put an ice cube on it.” May called.

“Shut up.”

Foolishly, he thought he would be left alone if he sat in his bunk but Grant forgot that Skye literally has no shame. The no shame was confirmed when she opened the door (she shut it behind her) and sat on his bed as if it was completely normal for them to have girl-talk about sex. 

Seriously, he was a grown man. Why did she find this so interesting. 

“I have a question and I want you to answer it honestly.” Her wide eyes are way too close to his for comfort.

“I will literally lie through my teeth to you and not feel guilty.” 

Ward had already been mortified plenty by her. Regardless, she pressed on.

“Our hotel rooms were right next to each other. And the only person you hung out with was that man you met at the bar.”

 _Oh. Oh dear._ Okay, he could play this off. He did nothing wrong.

“That’s not really a question.” He hoped that would shut her up.

Instead she giggled at him and placed a hand on his thigh. Grant pretended he wasn’t loving all of the attention she was giving him ( _Physical contact with her felt amazing_ ).

“Are you gay?” Skye cocked her head to the side.

“Oh,” He was relieved _that_ was the question, “No.”

“So… Bisexual?” God fucking dammit.

“Pansexual,” He corrected, “Not that it’s any of your business.”

She squeezed his thigh. All he could focus on was the nails that were so close to his- _No, Grant, you cannot go there you are almost her boss._

“So you still like women?” 

Strike his last thought, Grant was totally allowed to look at the way her teeth sunk into her bottom lip.

“Yeah, of course.” 

Another squeeze on his thigh. Seriously, she was squeezing his thigh, biting her lip, _on his bed with the door shut_ and asking him about what he was into.

“That’s a relief.”

And with that she left.

Grant really was fucked, wasn’t he?


	3. The third time, Grant actually learned something

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow took me a whole four months. I know y’all like this story a lot so I’m trying harder to write additions. This was based off of a very fuckin weird convo I had with my friends :)

The third time, Grant actually learned something.

You’d think, with all of the time Skye would come onto Grant, she wouldn’t date other people. That wasn’t particularly the case. She announced to the team that while they were grounded, she was going out alone. 

The only person who had a problem with it (that spoke up) was May. She believed it was immature for the young woman to leave safety just for a tinder match. Grant wanted to burst from his chair in agreeance with the older agent. In actuality he just avoided everyone’s gaze and tried not to pout when Skye got her way.

Surprisingly, Phil let her leave. But only because she promised to keep an icer in her purse and they had a really rough mission. Everyone was exceptionally stressed and exhausted. 

May was the first one to start drinking after Skye left. She grabbed a bottle of vodka for herself, sat down at the bar, and tried to lessen the pain in her shoulders. Actually, she started drinking as soon as she had to get stitches, but that is what she called, “medical drinking.” Much different from the, “casual drinking,” she was doing now.

Ward almost immediately joined her, although this was his first taste for the day. He poured himself a glass of bourbon and rested his elbows against the bar behind him. He was contemplating the probability of what was becoming a case for alcoholism. After-combat drinking was starting to become a dangerous routine. 

Grant internally shrugged. It was not his current reason for drinking so it must not be that big of an issue. The sullenness at the sudden lack of _Skye_ in his life was won the fight for control over mission stress.

He waved over Fitzsimmons to join them. Sometimes they acted weird when he and May hung out, as if they weren’t allowed to partake in the liquor at the same time. Jemma shot him a grateful smile that made his insides revolt at the realization: _This is friendship._ It made him want to exit the room and jump out of the plane. Instead of doing that, he just poured him another glass, silently toasting himself to the girl he liked going on a date with someone else and the disgusting possibility of people getting close to him.

Nobody could coax Agent Coulson to join them. He was far too tired to care about team bonding. 

Eventually, Skye came home (Ward found it off-putting that he accidentally referred to the Bus as, “home.”) to find four agents in various stages of intoxication. 

May had not moved from her designated chair at the bar and was staring straight into her glass. Ward was practically falling asleep on the bar, his back leaning on it so much so that he was staring at the ceiling. Fitz was fine (See: Scottish) and Simmons was the first one to greet her.

“ _Skye!_ ” Simmons slammed her hands down on her lap, both her eyes and her Prosecco sparkling.

Apparently, it was hard for Skye not to find the demeanor amusing because she, too, started giggling.

“Hi!”

Ward was surprised that both of the women could contain such excitement when he was feeling absolutely miserable. Skye sat down next to him, which, admittedly, made him feel a bit better.

“Hi, Grant.”

Oh. She called him by his first name. That was new. He wanted to sit up but for some reason he couldn’t. Maybe his back was glued to the bar or maybe now she also made him weak in a physical sense. Gross.

He realized that he never responded so he tried waving at her but only resulted in resting his hand on his chest.

“Feel like sitting up at all?” Her voice was worried but he liked that she wanted to talk to him.

But he shouldn’t want to talk to her. She just got back from doing _whatever_ with another man. He wanted to intelligently express that he was hurt and slightly offended and he didn’t like that she constantly sent mixed signals.

“I… cant.” Is what came out of mouth.

“You can’t sit up?”

“... No.”

Both her, Fitz, and Simmons laughed at his expense. To take the attention off of himself, he asked her in the least bitter tone he had in his mental arsenal,

“How was your, ‘date,’ Skye.” He sensed Melinda May get up, swiping his glass from him as she exited the room. 

_Traitor,_ he thought. They could’ve been disapproving together. Now he knew he was completely alone in his irrationality. Fuck.

“Boring.”

Grant lifted his head up to look at her. Her eyes were grinning at him. This wasn’t fair.

“Shame.” He stared her down.

Simmons enthusiastically agreed with him.

“He was so cute!” She exclaimed, “His lips were really nice I know you were excited to—.”

“Okay, that’s enough for me.” Fitz jumped to his feet. 

Grant wished he could leave with him. Alas, his back refused to move. He was, by all means, stuck. The women were calling the Scot boring and heckling him but at least he got to _escape._

Grant sighed really loudly.

“Yeah, no, he was really cute,” Skye said, ignoring his sigh, “But he didn’t know how to grab my boobs correctly.”

“The fuck does that mean?” He sat up straight immediately.

The two women jumped at his outburst but apparently found it hilarious.

“Grant, if you don’t know what we are talking about then I have some very bad news for you.”  
Simmons giggled. 

“That is ridiculous. There’s not really a wrong way to… _you know.”_

“If you can’t say it Grant.” Skye chided

He rolled his eyes.

“Would you like me to enlighten you?” 

Skye put her hand on his. Jesus. Mary. Joseph. 

She wasn’t going to do what he thought she was going to do, right? Like Simmons was _right_ there. Also this would take up their flirting by twenty notches. Sure, she always makes sexual jokes to him and she’s touched his thigh once and she kissed him on the cheek but this is... a lot. Right?

Oh, he was supposed to respond. He should go to bed, that’s what he should say.

“Sure.” Is what came out.

He was in trouble.

Skye fixed him with a look that was both authoritative and scholarly. 

“So like some guys just like grab onto boobs and then just hold them.” 

She demonstrated by gripping his hand in the way the supposed guy would hold onto a boob. Oh. She wasn’t going to make him touch… yeah. Okay. He was a little disappointed.

Simmons chimed in. He forgot she was here.

“Which is fine for five seconds but after that it’s just odd.”

“As opposed to what,” Ward asked, “Not… touching…them?”

Skye smiled at him like he was a puppy or something small, clueless, and cute. He hated it. 

“Well it’s like if someone just doesn’t move their lips when you try to kiss them. Do stuff like massage them or just like move your hands a bit.”

“Oh,” Grant said dumbly, “Oh yeah I mean that’s what I do.”

He realized what escaped his mouth far too late and had to cover his ears at the piercing laughter of the two most annoying women in his life.

“See?” Skye’s eyes were bright and she clapped him on the back, “You get it!”

“This is the weirdest conversation I’ve ever had.”

“But it’s so important to have!” Simmons stood up, albeit a little shakily.

She and Skye exchanged a weird look that was probably routed in some girl-code type mental conversation he couldn’t pick up on because women were weird. 

“While I would love to further educate our dear Ward on the ways of women, I’m afraid I must sleep off this champagne.”

“Remind me to never let you drink with us again.” Ward called after her.

She, too, was a traitor. Complicit in letting Skye get her way.

“Okay but you are way drunker than she is.”

“I am a grown man. I am a veteran. My tolerance is steel.”

“Babe, you told me you were unable to sit up.”

“Don’t call me babe.” He said it harsher than was socially acceptable for the level they were talking.

She laughed, this time a little uncomfortable, like she couldn’t tell if he was upset at her.

Was he upset at her? He didn’t know. Did he have a right to be upset with her? Probably not. But it didn’t matter because Skye moved on quite quickly.

“Speaking of things you are unable to do, you _are_ aware that you are thirty-something and you can’t say the word, ‘boobs.’”

“Skye.”

His scolding never worked. She cocked her hip and crossed her arms and gave him a once over.

“Considering you’re always staring at mine you’d think you’d be acquainted with the word.”

Screw it, he was irritated at her.

“You practically flash me, I don’t stare at you.”

He never had the upper hand with her. He was still sitting on the bar, literally looking down at her and yet she still sounded like she had all the power in this conversation. 

Skye shrugged and leaned in. He didn’t want to prove her point so he maintained eye contact with her.

“You like it.” 

Ward genuinely couldn’t argue with that. 

“Goodnight, Skye.” This time she rolled her eyes.

She went to leave but decided to turn around at the last minute. He watched her grab her own chest and squeeze.

“Goodnight Grant!” She giggled before zipping out the door.

Well. Fuck.


	4. The fourth time, Grant breaks.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skye pushes Grant past his breaking point and he’s so close to losing his control.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, I haven’t updated in months.

The fourth time, Grant breaks.

It was starting to wear on him, all of this flirting. He hated that he loved it so much. It felt like an intense weakness that he just _had_ to notify John of.

Ward knew he would be a disappointment. Garret trained him to be immune to weakness. He was supposed to be a heartless soldier not some stupid, low level, horny agent. 

He wasn’t going to tell Garret about his not-crush because he knew he might immediately get reassigned from the team. He was just going to tell him about Skye’s advances and how it’s been affecting him. 

Which, obviously, caused Garret to laugh at him for about two minutes (in between calling him whipped and questioning his masculinity). Apparently, a woman making passes at him is not a problem by far. 

Garret suggested a few… _methods_ for Ward to deal with his frustration but Grant felt like he had more self control than Garret gave him credit for. That’s not to say he didn't see the appeal in acting on his affections, because he did. Especially on days like today.

Skye got to go on their latest undercover mission. It was low-level risk with a simple husband and wife cover that would take maybe three hours, tops. After his phone call, he was supposed to check and see if she was done getting ready. He knocked on her bunk door and received an enthusiastic invitation to come in.

Ward didn’t mean for his jaw to drop. Honestly, he should call to mind his training because he keeps letting his mask slip. But she was standing with her back to him, struggling to zip up her dress. It was a soft, red, sleeveless dress and it fell to the floor and he could get a wonderful view of her ass in the tight fabric. He managed to shut his mouth by the time she spoke.

“Zip me up?” Skye flashed him an apologetic smile over her shoulder.

“Um,” He said intelligently, “yeah.”

His voice sounded a little hoarse, even to him.

Grant took a step towards her and left the door open for a little bit of protection against doing something rash. Skye swept her hair in front of her shoulders, exposing her full back. She wasn’t wearing a bra.

His right hand fumbled with the zipper while his other rested on her left shoulder blade. He might have held his breath a bit. She might’ve been able to tell. 

When he was done, she turned around and faced him. They were too close and he had the overwhelming urge to kiss her. Except _someone_ left the stupid bunk door open so he had no privacy. Which was the point of him leaving it open in the first place but whatever.

“Are you ready?” 

“Why are you whispering?” She raised an eyebrow.

“Oh,” Ward said at normal volume, “Sorry, no reason.”

He tried to step away but Skye had taken to pulling him closer and fixing his bow tie. 

“So, are you ready?” His voice came out hoarse again.

“Do I look ready?” 

It was a trap and he knew it. Skye was still fiddling with his bow tie and suit. Close enough that if he checked her out he’d just get an eyeful down her dress. It would be better for him to keep his eyes straight ahead. 

“Sure.”

“You didn’t even look.”

In his head he could hear the sound of John’s laughter from earlier. 

“And get accused of staring, again? No thanks.”

“I thought you said that I’m always the one flashing.” 

“Can you please just—,” Grant sighed, “It doesn’t take this long to fix a bow tie.”

Skye looped her arms around his neck.

“I thought we were practicing for our covers.”

He finally met her eyes. This was a dangerous game she kept playing. He could play too, if he wanted. He could take Garret’s advice and throw all of this right back at her. He could try that.

“You look nice.” Is what he said, instead.

She cocked her head to the side which made the prospect of kissing her even more enticing. Seriously, _why_ did he leave the door open? Why hasn’t anybody seen them yet?

“And yet you still haven’t looked.”

On instinct, Grant glanced down which ended up causing him to look straight down her dress. By the time his eyes snapped back up to her face, Skye had purposefully tickled his neck, causing his body to jerk away from her.

 

(She didn’t treat him much better on the mission.

Skye made him dance with her not once but twice. The second time her lips brushed his collar bones as she talked to him. He might have physically frozen when that happened, causing some of the other people at the gala to eye them. 

One time she called him out for checking out a blonde with a great set of legs. Which he might’ve been guilty of but that didn’t matter because Fitzsimmons were chuckling in his ear through the coms device and he didn’t deserve that.)

 

By the time the mission was over, Ward was so tense from irritation and flat out sexual frustration that he had to deal with it. 

He had to relieve some of the pressure in his pants and was about to _go to fucking town_ in his bunk but a certain hacker was sitting on his bed. 

She wore a grin so devious he almost lost all of his control right then and there. 

“I need help,” She said.

He needed help too. Desperately.

“I can’t get this zipper, again. Help me?”

She stood up and turned her back to him. Grant dug his fingernails into his palms, a last-ditch attempt to distract himself from his racing heart.

This time, he had to move her hair off her neck on his own. He slowly dragged down the zipper, positive his breath was loud enough for everyone on the bus to hear.

“Thanks!” Skye turned back towards him and beamed.

She had to hold up the sleeveless dress against herself.

“Goodnight,” Was all he could croak out.

He slid a hand into his pants as soon as she left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if anyone read any weird drafts of these that Archive accidentally posted. 
> 
> Tell me what you think!!!
> 
>  
> 
> Sorry I haven’t posted in forever. I have been having awful writers block and I got broken up with, which makes it hard to write all the cute fluff I usually write.


End file.
